Pacifica
"You are so beautiful, my lady. Don't you see?" the maid murmured, sliding the final ornate hairpin into place.
I blinked up at the hazy silver mirror. My reflection stared back. A stranger in a
wedding gown so vast and heavy it pooled across the stone floor like spilled
moonlight.
Layers of midnight silk and embroidered dragon scales shimmered under the torchlight; intricate gold threads traced runes of dominion and eternity.
Heavy jewels crowned my hair, cascading chains of sapphire and obsidian that marked me unmistakably as the new queen.
I swallowed against the knot in my throat and tried to smile. The expression fractured before it could form.
Then came the distant groan of the great gates swinging wide.
I surged to my feet at once. Perhaps, against all reason, my people had come. Perhaps my
mother, or Beta Slan, or some remnant of my kin had ridden through the night to bear witness to this union, to stand as silent witnesses that I was not entirely alone.
I rushed to the window and leaned out, heart leaping only to freeze.
It was not my people.
The new Loyal Knight from the Vampire Kingdom rode slowly through the open gates. His massive destrier moved with deliberate calm, each hoofbeat echoing like a
tolling bell.
He sat motionless in the saddle, armored head to toe in blackened steel etched with crimson sigils. No skin exposed, no feature revealed. His presence rolled ahead of him like frost on the wind.
In the Eclipse World we inhabited, where four kingdoms balanced on blades of fragile
peace, the vampires had once ruled through blood and shadow.
For centuries they dominated, until the dragons chose to answer with fire. They scorched vampire citadels to ash and took their nobles as thralls.
In the end, the Vampire King knelt and bargained for survival. Each Dragon King would receive one Loyal Knight from vampire bloodlines. That knight would serve without question, without mercy, bound by blood-oath and buried alive with his lord upon death. When a new Dragon King rose, a new knight arrived to renew the ancient chain.
The old king was dead. His Loyal Knight, the same black-armored specter who had ridden
at Flame Shai's side last night and severed my father's head had been entombed with him this afternoon.
Now this new one had come to swear the oath.
He guided his horse forward at a measured walk, the courtyard falling silent around him.
Then, as though drawn by instinct, he halted. Slowly, deliberately, he lifted his head toward my window.
He could see me clearly in my wedding finery, framed against the torch-glow. I could see
nothing of his eyes behind the shadowed visor, yet I felt the spark of connection, sharp and electric, like lightning trapped in glass.
He held my gaze for what felt like an eternity. Then, without a word or gesture, he wheeled his mount and galloped deeper into the citadel, vanishing toward the royal stables.
I remained at the window, trembling.
No one from my kingdom would come. No rescue. No witness. Whether I willed it or not, Flame Shai would be my husband by nightfall.
***
Light spilled golden down the long aisle of the Royal Furnace Hall. The vast chamber carved from living volcanic stone and lit by eternal braziers was packed shoulder-to-shoulder with the people of the Dragon Kingdom.
Nobles in fur and scale, warriors in rune-etched armor, all eyes fixed forward where the
high priest stood before the altar of flame.
Ornaments weighed heavy in my hair. Chains of gold and ruby that caught the firelight and
threw crimson sparks across my skin. Luxurious. Expensive. A crown of
captivity.
This was the moment I had dreamed of since childhood, the moment I thought would flood me with joy. Instead it tasted only of ash.
"Walk, my lady" a soft voice whispered at my ear, one of the maids who had dressed me.
I clutched the bouquet of black roses and moonlilies so tightly the thorns bit into my
palms. Then I stepped forward into the aisle.
Goosebumps raced across my skin. Once the bond was forged, it was eternal or near enough.
A dragon's mark did not fade like a werewolf's mate-bond upon rejection. It burned into flesh and soul alike.
I walked alone. No father to give me away. No mother at my side. No kin, no pack, no
familiar faces. Only the weight of foreign gazes, some envious, some openly
jealous, many simply curious about the werewolf princess who had become their
queen.
Gasps rippled through the crowd as I drew nearer. I kept my eyes forward until I
stood before Flame Shai.
He waited in royal black and gold, dragon runes glowing faintly along his exposed forearms, eyes locked on me with possessive hunger.
The priest's voice rang clear above the crackle of flames.
"Princess Pacifica, do you take Flame Shai, Dragon Lord and King, as your husband?"
The question hung like smoke. Silence pressed in, thick and rigid.
I lifted my gaze to Flame Shai, then past him.
Darcy, his stepsister, stood among the attendants. A small, perfect smile curved her lips.
If I had not seen them tangled together last night, I might have mistaken it for warmth. Now I knew it for what it was. Deception.
"Princess Pacifica," the priest repeated, stronger now, "do you take Flame Shai, Dragon Lord King, as your husband?"
My teeth caught my lower lip until I tasted blood. My eyes shifted again, this time to
the rigid figure standing just behind the king.
The new Loyal Knight. Black armor gleaming like wet obsidian. Motionless as stone. Duty-bound until Flame Shai's death. A living reminder of what happened to kingdoms that defied the dragons.
The vampires, once feared across the Eclipse World, had bent the knee. The fox clans
paid tribute in silence to preserve their freedom. What chance did my kingdom
have? Leaderless now. Heirless. Broken.
"Yes," I whispered.
The single word fell like a stone into deep water.
The priest turned to Flame Shai. He did not need to ask. The Dragon King had already
claimed what he wanted.
Vows were exchanged in the old tongue, words of fire and eternity. Rings slid onto
fingers, his heavy with a dragon's claw setting, mine a slender band of blackened gold that felt like a shackle. The crowd erupted in cheers.
All but two.
The Queen Dowager watched from her high seat, expression unreadable. The Loyal Knight remained statue-still, helm turned toward me as though measuring the weight of
my surrender.
I blinked rapidly, forcing the tears back. Flame Shai stepped forward. His hand rose to
cup my cheek, gentle, yet inescapable. I could not turn away now. He was my
husband. The ring bound me. The mark would come soon.
His lips claimed mine.
I closed my eyes. Tears slipped free anyway, trailing cold paths down my cheeks as I
shuddered in his hold. His palm settled at my waist, protective to the watching world, possessive to me alone.
He kissed me deeply before gods, flames, and subjects, sealing his dominion over my life.
In that moment, under the roar of celebration, I felt the last fragile piece of myself fracture.
I was his queen now.
And I was alone.